Welcome To Wherever You Are (29 page)

Zak glared at her from behind the wheel of his vehicle as the gates to his property opened and he screeched to a halt. Ruth’s initial relief that he was still alive gave way to fear when Zak leapt from the vehicle and charged towards her, chest puffed out and nostrils flared.

‘Why are you still here, bitch?’ he yelled, not giving her a chance to respond. ‘This is your last chance to get the fuck off my street!’

Ruth swallowed hard, terrified of Zak’s aggression. And when she was too scared and confused to reply, he pulled out his phone and began to dial a number before walking back towards his house. Suddenly she burst into life.

‘No, please don’t go, Zak, I just want to talk to you,’ Ruth pleaded. ‘I’ve seen all your films and interviews and you seem like such a good guy.’

‘I’m an actor; I get paid to be nice, and you ain’t paid me shit . . . Hi, I’d like to report an intruder who’s harassing me . . . yeah, it’s Zak Stanley and I’m on Vista Del Mar . . . yeah, as soon as possible, thank you.’

‘But I know you love animals and so do I. I nursed a sick dog but he . . . um . . . died,’ Ruth added, desperately.

‘What are you talking about?’ replied Zak, genuinely baffled.

‘We could be friends, I know we could.’

‘Us? You and me? Ha! You turn up at my house uninvited, and you think we’re gonna be buddies? Life doesn’t work like that.’

‘But it can! Look, that film you were in,
Baby Baby
, the bit where you say, “I know this is the first time we’ve met, but I don’t ever want to lose sight of you again . . .” – that’s how I feel about you.’

‘It’s just a fucking film! And that’s the trouble with people like you – you can’t see the difference between what’s on a screen and what’s real life. So you come to my home and harass me and think we’ll be besties? Fool.’

‘Please, Zak, please, I know you’ll like me if you give me a chance, I’m a good person, I really am.’

‘Look at you – you’re . . . shit, I don’t even know what you are. What’s with your clothes? You stink of BO, I can smell your breath from here. And that hair! Have you ever washed it? I’ve dated Miley, Ariana, Iggy . . . Tell me, how would I explain you to my friends?’

Ruth paused for a moment. ‘We don’t have to tell anyone! We could be secret friends.’

Zak paused to take stock of the latest in a long line of obsessive fans, but none had been as pitiable as Ruth. In his mind, he’d tried diplomacy, he’d attempted to be polite, and he’d used the cruel-to-be kind approach, but nothing had worked. So when Ruth grabbed his arm, there was only one option left open to him. He swung around sharply and grabbed Ruth by the throat, pushing his face into hers.

‘Listen, bitch, for the last time, I ain’t interested in you or being your pal,’ he hissed. ‘Now get your stupid fat ass out of here before I do something you’re gonna regret.’

Then he shoved Ruth to the pavement and removed his wallet from his pocket. ‘If I was poor you wouldn’t want me, would you? For people like you it’s all about getting a piece of my fame and my money.’

He threw a handful of $50 and $100 bills at Ruth and she wept as the money and her dreams landed in the gutter.

‘There, you don’t need anything from me now, right?’

The last time Ruth had heard those words, they had come from her father’s lips. She promised herself she would never hear them again from someone she loved, and that included Zak.

Zak turned his head when he noticed Ruth’s shadow against his gatepost, but before he could react, she plunged her knitting needles deep into his throat.

‘It’s not what you think,’ began Matty, and he and Declan froze, staring wide-eyed at Tommy and the wallet.

‘What I think,’ began Tommy, ‘is that you two robbed a post office, literally scared an elderly man to death and now you’re on the run.’

‘Prove it,’ added Declan.

‘I don’t have to,’ continued Tommy. ‘The story might not name you, but I bet the police back home would be interested in knowing your whereabouts.’

Matty and Declan looked at other, then at Tommy, and said nothing.

‘Lost for words, boys? You usually have so much to say.’

Declan cleared his throat. ‘Cut to the chase, what are you gonna do?’

Tommy grinned. ‘What am I going to do, or what have I already done?’

‘Tell me you haven’t,’ said Matty.

‘Hmm, I could, but I wouldn’t want to lie to you.’

Tommy instinctively turned his head and lifted his arm up to protect his face when Declan lurched towards him, pinning his arm under Tommy’s neck.

‘You bastard, you’ve got no idea, have you?’

‘I know that you think you can get away with anything if you turn on the Irish charm,’ said Tommy, his windpipe throbbing under Declan’s chunky forearm. ‘Well, you can’t anymore.’

‘Leave him, Dec, it’s not worth it,’ interrupted Matty, ‘Let’s just get our stuff and go, eh?’

‘I’d hurry if I were you,’ added Tommy, ‘it won’t take long for that nice officer I spoke to at Dundalk
garda
station to call his colleagues in the LAPD.’

Declan punched Tommy in the stomach, causing him to fold in half and gasp for air. Then he grabbed Tommy’s T-shirt and reached his arm back, ready to whack him again, but Matty yanked him backwards to stop him.

‘Dec, please, don’t.’

Declan hesitated and dropped Tommy back on the floor.

‘You might not like the way we carry ourselves, but I’ll tell you this for nothing. We’d rather be who we are than you – a petty, spiteful little shite who’s terrified of losing his place as King Dick in a poorhouse.’

‘You have no clue what I went through before I made this trip,’ gasped Tommy. ‘And do you think I like dressing up as a fucking hotdog just so I can afford to be here? I didn’t just take a short cut and steal.’

‘Did it ever cross your stupid little mind why we did it?’ spat Declan.

‘No, please tell me, I can’t wait to hear your excuse for this one.’

‘Because Matty’s . . . Matty’s . . .’ Declan’s voice trailed off into silence.

‘Because I’m dying, Tommy.’

Tommy paused and looked at them both. His initial reaction was to assume they were lying, until Declan punched a hole in the plasterboard wall.

Savannah made the most of the quietness of the near-empty beach.

Instead of sprawling across the sand, today’s tourists were distracted by the sights and sounds of an Indian music and food festival spread across the boardwalk. Savannah had already been caught up amongst the throng of performers, and smiled at their brightly coloured saris and dark hats decorated with white flowers. She’d gasped as acrobats hurled themselves up in the air from stilts others held shoulder high, twisting in the sky and landing with precision back on the inch-wide footholds. And she’d gratefully accepted a paper plate crammed with food samples that she ate as she walked across the beach towards the shore. Even from a distance she could hear the singing of traditional Indian folk tunes.

Savannah sat on a blanket with her arms wrapped around her legs and her chin resting on her knees, watching as the tide brought the same piece of sea kelp in and out, over and over again.

Having been raised so far away from the coast, only now could she appreciate how freeing it was to be near to what felt like an infinite body of water that could sweep a person in any direction for as long as it desired. For months, Savannah had lived from day to day, keeping one eye on the present and one eye over her shoulder, waiting for the past to catch up with her. But that afternoon, she allowed herself to consider a future that didn’t involve raising a child on a bedrock of fear.

It had been more than two months since someone had tried to bundle her into a van and since she’d accidentally shot Tommy, and there had been no further threatening incidents.

Starting there and then, she decided to make a conscious effort to change. While caution would always prevail, she knew she must learn how to trust people again and not assume any new faces automatically had a hidden agenda.

From behind, she felt the vibrations of feet softly plodding through the sand towards her. Her gut reaction was to still scramble to her feet defensively, but this time she didn’t act on it and instead, she remained in place.

‘I hope you don’t mind, but I saw this little romper suit in K-Mart I had to buy for the baby,’ came Jane’s enthusiastic voice. She sat beside Savannah and removed a variety of baby clothes from a bag. ‘Well maybe that was a white lie,’ she continued, ‘I might’ve accidentally bought all these things as well.’

‘Thanks Jane, but you shouldn’t have,’ smiled Savannah.

‘Well, you don’t have anyone else to spoil you.’

‘Why are you so nice to me? You hardly know me.’ Savannah said, not out of suspicion, but genuine interest.

Jane paused and gazed out towards the horizon. ‘For selfish reasons, I suppose. I spent fifteen years as a mum and now nobody needs me. I feel kind of, well, surplus to requirements, I suppose. I’m sorry if you think I’m interfering.’

‘No, you’re not. It’s . . . nice that somebody cares.’

Savannah closed her eyes, tilted her head towards sun, and took a deep breath.

‘What’s wrong, love? Are you a little lost today?’

Savannah paused and put her hand on Jane’s. ‘You know what? I don’t think I am anymore.’

Neither Savannah nor Jane was aware of the figure standing way behind them under the shadow of the lifeguard station, or knew they’d been following her for much of the last two days.

‘Sit down,’ said Matty, pointing to a chair in the corner of the room. ‘Please.’

Tommy obliged, but kept his hand pressed on his aching ribs, still unable to breathe normally following Declan’s swift blow. He watched cautiously as Matty removed a washbag from under his bed, unzipped it, and poured out a dozen blister packs and plastic tubs of tablets. Then he took another and did the same.

Matty sat down and leaned his back against the wall. ‘I’ve got problems with my heart, Tommy,’ he explained quietly. ‘I was born with a congenital heart defect, or to give it its proper name, a complete atrioventricular canal defect. I had a transplant three years back, but this new one’s not keen on its new home.’

Matty lifted his shirt to reveal a long, raised vertical scar on his chest.

‘He was waiting for another donor before we left Ireland,’ muttered Declan.

‘But the chances of getting a second match are pretty slim,’ Matty continued. ‘I’ve been in and out of hospital my whole life, and I’ve had enough. I told Declan that I wanted to see the world before it was time to leave, but the only way I could afford it was if we robbed a bank. It was supposed to be a joke until, well, we robbed the next best thing.’

‘No one was supposed to get hurt, that wasn’t the intention,’ added Declan. ‘We only found out about yer man’s death when we read it in the paper. And we only stole what we needed, we didn’t take the piss.’

‘We were pretty mortified,’ continued Matty.
‘
Declan’s brothe
r
reckons the
gardaí
couldn’t identify us from the CCTV pictures, so for the time being we’re safe. But all it would take is a tip-off and who knows what might happen.’

‘Wouldn’t another transplant work?’ asked Tommy, eyeing Matty as he placed his tablets back inside the washbags.

‘I’m sick of waiting and I’m sick of these drugs, Tommy. They stop me dying, but they also stop me living. So when my body gives up on me, I want to go out with a smile on my face and my best mate close by. Then I’ll know I’ve lived a life.’

The room fell silent for a moment before Tommy spoke again.

‘I didn’t call them . . . the police. I mean, I wanted to, and I even Googled their number in Dundalk and I was
this
close to doing it, but I bottled it at the last minute. I just wanted to scare you into leaving.’

Matty and Declan let out long, relieved breaths.

‘Why do you want us out of here so badly?’ asked Matty.

‘Why do you reckon?’

‘Because we tease you?’

‘You do more than that and you know it.’

‘But only because you treated us like scum the day we arrived.’

‘Yeah, but you were trying your luck to stay here for free. But yes, I know, I was patronising and I’m sorry for that. People like you just . . . “fit in” without having to do anything. It took me weeks to get to know everyone, and that’s only because I work here so they’re forced to get on with me. And I got . . . well, jealous.’

‘Tommy, everyone here loves you, man,’ Declan replied. ‘You just need to lighten up a bit.’ Tommy offered an embarrassed smile.

‘So what do you say, shall we call a truce?’ Declan continued. ‘I mean, I can’t guarantee we’re not going to rib you now and again, but just give as good as you get, man.’

Tommy nodded and shook hands with Matty and Declan, then passed Matty’s wallet back to its rightful owner. Matty took the newspaper cutting out and ripped it to shreds, letting the pieces float into the bin. And he hoped now that someone else was in on their secret, Declan would have someone to talk to when the inevitable happened.